Hermione's Cousin
by me-im-a-thief
Summary: Ron is nuts about Hermione and she's nuts about him, but neither of them know. Throw Hermione's cousin in the mix. Will Ron be able to sort through his feelings? Will Hermione ever admit the truth? Will Harry get more than two lines? MORE CHAPTERS TO COME


CHAPTER ONE  
  
As the newly dawned sunlight streamed down and past the picture perfect homes framed by white picket fences, Hermione kept walking quickly, determined not to let the boys make her late. Ron stole a glance in her direction, and paused to watch the sparkling sunlight play upon her upturned, determined face. Her face was so delicate, her hair so shiny… he remembered the first day they'd met on the train to Hogwarts… she had changed so much… He gulped, both nervous and excited about the next few days he'd be spending with Hermione. Well Harry too, of course. But Harry had spent the last two weeks at the Burrow, having a raucous good time with him and his family before school started again. When his mother revealed that Hermione had written her with the idea of him and Harry spending some time in muggle London with her, he was thrilled. After all, it was Hermione that he'd been thinking about all summer. The more he had found himself unable to keep his eyes off her during school, the more he noticed other guys doing the same and it bothered him terribly. It pained him to think of her with anyone else...

"We have to keep going!" Hermione instructed, interrupting his reverie as she turned to address Harry and Ron, "If we hurry, we'll just make it."

Ron looked away a few seconds too late and focused on the row of houses in front of them and repeated the same questions he'd been asking since she met Harry and him at the London train station that morning. "Where are we going Hermione? I don't want to spend my last week of freedom following you to Merlin knows where!"

"Well, you'll see when we get there, won't you?" she replied smugly, looking conspiratorially to Harry, who smiled weakly, unsure himself of the present course of action.

Ron had just begun to continue his argument when Hermione shot him a warning look, and they continued striding down the upper class suburban street in silence for the next few minutes. For the first time since she'd invited Harry and Ron to spend the week before school with her, doubts began to crowd her mind. When her cousin first mentioned spending the week before school with her and Harry had been talking about them getting together, it just seemed perfect. Why not do both? Hermione had always had a wonderful time with Juliette, who was really her closest confidant outside of Hogwarts, not counting Harry or Ron. But now- now she wasn't so sure. Her cousin, as nonchalant as she was about guys, had this amazing ability to out charm and outshine her less outgoing, less vixenish cousin. In all that she'd told Juliette about Harry and Ron, she hadn't seemed the least bit interested in anything but enjoying the company of Hermione's best friends. The fact that Hermione thought she might be in love with one of them hadn't come up. Finally, Hermione stopped in front of a large light blue house with white shutters, a triumphant look on her face.

"Here!" she announced as she strode up to the heavy wooden front door and tried the antique pewter knocker, "Hello!" She tried it three more times, and waited, before turning around to face the boys, a puzzled look on her face. "I don't understand… she said to meet her here." She checked her watch, "At four."

Just then, the three of them turned to face the booming thump of an approaching car. As it zoomed down the quiet street, the shiny red convertible caught the sun, appearing almost magical, and Ron could just start to make out, in the driver's seat, a young man wearing sunglasses and a baseball hat, probably 17 or 18, when the passenger next to him jumped up in her seat and waved.

"Hermione! It's actually you!" she squealed with delight as the car pulled up to the curb, "It's been forever! I'm so sorry I'm late, I…" the girl tucked a strand of her long blonde hair behind her ear shyly as she climbed out of the car, noticing Ron and Harry. Her large green eyes sparkling, she stuck out her hand earnestly, "Juliette Granger. Hermione's favorite cousin," she announced, showing two perfect rows of bright white teeth as she smiled broadly at Hermione and turned back to the boys. "And you are?"

"I… I… you see… I…" Ron started, suddenly realizing his mind, specifically his ability to form coherent sentences, was failing him, as he stared helplessly at the chunky silver rings and black painted nails on her outstretched hand. Feeling the heat of his skin, full knowing that his face must be its frequent shade of fire-engine red, he looked to Harry for help.

"I'm Harry," he said, holding his hand to his chest. "And this is Ron," sweeping his hand over to indicate Ron. "Nice to meet you," he smiled as he shook her still outstretched hand.

"You too," she smiled, then turned to Ron. "Won't you come in?"

Turning, she strode up to the front door, pulled keys from her pocket, unlocked it, and walked through, Hermione, Ron, and Harry following close behind. As they passed into the main hall, loud rock music thumped from farther inside the house. Strolling confidently past a large oval mirror, Juliette paused to flip her shiny blonde hair over her shoulder, and examine her thickly lined eyes, before continuing down the hall and into a large, richly decorated room with a high ceiling and large bay windows. The source of the pumping music was now obvious- out of a large stereo on the floor pulsed, what Ron now recognized as, "Ride" by The Vines, one of his favorite bands.

Juliette turned to Hermione, "Can I get you anything to drink?" Waiting until Hermione nodded, Harry smiled, and Ron grunted approval, she disappeared through a large doorway into what appeared to be the kitchen, leaving the trio examining the room. Harry picked up a silver photo frame from the side table of the overstuffed, gold filigree couch, studying the young couple, bundled in winter coats, pictured inside. Examining the substantial array of literature held in the shelves of the massive wooden bookcase, Hermione stole a glance at Ron, riveted in place in front of the stereo, moving his head ever-so-slightly from side to side, to the beat of the music while thumbing through a pile of CD cases off the table next to it.

"You actually like it?" Hermione asked credulously. "I should have figured as much. Juliette has the absolute worst taste in music," she added, watching Ron's reaction.

Glancing in the kitchen's direction, Ron shrugged, a lopsided grin on his face. "Really good taste is what it is," he replied before turning back to the stereo, and returning to the pile of CD cases.

"Oh, is there something you'd rather listen to?" Juliette asked sweetly, watching Ron from the doorway, a tray of sodas and snacks in her hands. "If you'd like to change it, go ahead- I've been listening to them all day. Even kept them on when I was out to annoy the neighbors," she added, winking, as she set the tray down on the shining glass coffee table. Noticing Harry, she peered over his shoulder to look at the picture still clutched in his hands. "I can hardly believe my parents were ever that in love," she sighed, smiling as he turned, embarrassed, and handed it to her.

"So…" Hermione began, eyes narrowed. "Who was that guy?"

Juliette hovered in front of the loveseat. "Who? Oh, the guy in the car?" She gestured towards the front of the house. "Ah, just some guy. One of Jordan's friends. Jordan's one of my older brothers," she explained to the boys.

"That's all?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"So, you boys are Gryffindor, too?" Settling into the leather loveseat, soda in hand, Juliette looked from Harry to Ron. Following her example, Harry lowered himself onto the bamboo bar stool next to the leather chair Hermione had chosen. Ron looked between the red sateen fabric of the sofa, positioned opposite Juliette and a good distance behind the chairs chosen by his friends, and the empty spot on the black leather loveseat. Finally, deciding that the snacks were closer to the loveseat, he plopped down next to Juliette, eagerly grabbing for a soda.

"How'd you know about that?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Oh, mum and I are quite proud of Hermione, and love to hear all about her adventures at school," she replied, a twinkle in her eye. "Adventures you both know quite a bit about, I understand."

Taking a temporary respite from his Coke, Ron looked over in mock alarm. "What have you heard??" he demanded, a good-humored tone beneath his comically stern countenance.

"Oh," she countered, facing Ron, lips pursed in a coquettish smile, "I know everything. I know how Hermione punched that jerk. I know how you all have saved the school a bunch of times, and how that teacher was a werewolf, and your rat was a person, and…" she paused, considering Ron, "And that Hermione is really lucky to have friends like you." She paused for effect, then continued, "And to know the cutest, most amazing guy ever!" Wrapping her arms around her legs, she rested her head on her knees, a dreamy look on her face.

When she looked back at Ron a few seconds later, another bright smile lighting up her face, it wasn't surprising that he had turned his usual shade of red. "Who… who…d-do you mean?" he stuttered, seemingly unable to find a place to rest his eyes on.

She smiled wider, "Oliver Wood!" replying matter-of-factly, "He's so cute and nice… He's from Scotland, isn't he? Oh, and the way he played Quidditch! He's amazing!" She sighed wistfully before regaining her composure and turning to Ron. "Who did you think I meant?

"Uhh…. Uh….." was the only reply.

"You follow Quidditch then?" Harry interrupted.

"Oh yeah!" she replied, turning away from Ron to look at Harry. "Ever since Nee started at Hogwarts, I've been following the international teams…" Pausing, her eyes narrowed as she leaned a bit closer, examining Harry. "Of course! I thought that name sounded familiar!"

Harry sighed to himself. Everyone knowing you as "the boy who lived" gets a little old after a while, he thought, readying himself for whatever comments or questions were sure to come.

"You're Harry Potter!" she continued, "You're the team seeker. You're absolutely brilliant, you know!" Harry watched her in disbelief. "I can't believe I didn't recognize you," she admitted embarrassed. "I never put the two together, that Nee's Harry and Harry Potter, the prodigious seeker, might be the same person..." she trailed off, looking down.

"It's alright," Harry assured her, grinning, "Have you ever been to a match?" Juliette's bright smile returned as she leaned back into the dark leather of the loveseat, more than happy to talk about her favorite sport.

Ron loved Quidditch. He went to every Quidditch match, his brothers Fred and George being on the team, as well as Harry, and he could usually talk about it for hours, really as long as someone would listen to him, but he was out of sorts that day, half sick from worry and nervousness. He listened silently, his eyes wandering again around the room. Hermione sat coolly in the large leather chair that seemed to dwarf her small figure, intently examining the can of soda held in her slender fingers. He now assumed she had dressed differently today for her cousin, when earlier that morning he had been confused, but pleased. Her light pink sundress contrasted with her tan shoulders and lean legs, tucked in front of her on the chair. As she shifted in her seat, white light flashed off the silver of her necklace. He hated that necklace. She'd gotten it about a month ago from a certain Bulgarian and he hadn't seen her without it since. It was a constant reminder of how stupid he was for not doing something, not realizing… A burst of unexpected laughter from Juliette perching next to him, sent the couch under him bouncing, jarring him from his thoughts. As he felt his ears burn crimson, he turned abruptly back to the apparently hilarious ongoing conversation, realizing he had been daydreaming again.

Gasping for air, Juliette struggled to regain her composure. After a few moments, as Harry and Ron watched her, amused, she calmed down enough to check her watch. "Oh! I suppose we should decide on dinner. I was thinking we should go out," she declared, grinning. "What do you feel like?" As she rose from her chair to walk over to the phone, the boys did the same. Dialing, she called over to Hermione, breaking through her thoughts, "What do you think Nee? Give these boys something to write home about?"

Hermione smiled weakly as Juliette winked at her. Already her cousin was dominating. That was always the way things had been, she supposed. Still, that particular knowledge didn't make it any easier to watch Ron and Harry look at her like that. Harry, sure. He deserved some happiness, especially since Ginny had moved on. And she had no doubt Juliette would be an amazing girlfriend. Just not to Ron. Merlin, please, she thought, not to Ron.

* * *

Striding into the empty bedroom with a full stomach and a wide smile on his face, Ron dropped the pajama bottoms and tank Juliette had said were her wandering father's, now his for the night, along with the bright red towels, on the large poster bed, before turning to survey the room. The soft moonlight spread itself in paths from the large picture window in front of him across the wood floor and over the nearby furniture. The surface of the large Victorian looking walnut dresser shone in the light, and the effect from the large beveled oval mirror on top only added to the mystical feel. Next to that was a heavy cherry-stained door, which he assumed was a closet, since the door he had come through was several feet from that. In the other corner was an antique secretary's desk with the roll down cover. The room was rather spacious, and sparingly furnished considering. Walking around the corner of the bed, he plopped onto the bed, tossing the clothes and towels onto the dresser from where he lay. The blue satin comforter shifted under him as he spread his legs out and let his head fall back. His head sank into the full down pillow and he felt his eyes close as his mind started wandering, to Hermione, and her pink dress, her tan shoulders, that silver necklace that lay so delicately down past her collar bone, to Juliette, her long blonde hair, bright green eyes, the way she threw her head back when she laughed, her marvelous body…

Sitting straight up, Ron swung his legs over the bed, and started towards the dresser. It was obvious he wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon. Maybe a nice, long shower would help, he thought as he grabbed the towel and quietly pulled the door open and peered into the dark hall. A thin line of light outlined the door of the room he knew Hermione was in; probably reading "The History of Hogwarts" for the millionth time, he thought, passing Harry's dark room. Reaching the door he knew led to the bathroom and pausing momentarily, he continued, drawn to the light spilling from the partially open door beyond his destination. Juliette's room, he thought. Feeling both extremely adventurous and extremely terrified, he stopped at the door where he could see partially in, but anyone inside wouldn't see him without coming right to the door. Studying the visible part of the room, the band posters on the red walls, large silver and green stereo, and oriental style comforter of the king size sleigh bed were of particular interest to him.

Noticing no movement inside, he became suddenly aware of how it must look, him standing in the hall, peeping into her room. Quickly turning back towards the bathroom, his heart nearly stopped, as his eyes adjusted to the dark of the hallway, at the outline of a girl leaning against the railing at the top of the stairs, watching him. His sight becoming clearer, he noted the absence of anger or confusion in her green eyes and that her body language was relaxed. Her bedroom eyes seemed to be studying him, the corners of her delicious pink lips curved up into a suggestive smile. One hand rested on the banister, the other previously on her hip now slowly, carelessly slid over her fit stomach, her green eyes still locked on his. As her slender fingers alternately played with the bottom of her snug white tank top and the waistband of her black boy shorts, he could feel his heart in his throat; he couldn't breathe.

A startled look playing upon her pretty features, Juliette turned and took a step backward at the sound of Hermione's door being thrown open. Erupting obliviously into the hall, clutching a few small items, like a toothbrush, toothpaste, a hairbrush, she stopped mid-charge to the bathroom when she saw Ron, a perplexed look on her face.

"What are you doing?!" she whispered, cautiously drawing closer.

Continuing to back up behind Hermione, Juliette's figure had almost completely disappeared in the shadows by the stairs.

"I… uh… I just…" Ron began, again at a loss for words. He looked away from her shining eyes, examining instead the black oversized t-shirt that hung shapelessly off her shoulders, gray shorts peeking out from under its bulk. The toenails of her bare feet were painted pink, he noted with a muted surprise.

"Ron!" she whispered again, catching and holding his wandering eyes.

Holding up the towel clutched in his sweaty hands, he nodded towards the bathroom, hoping the smartest girl at Hogwart's would understand and leave it at that.

"Oh. Alright then, I'll just do this when you're all finished," she said, more to herself than Ron, turning back towards the direction of her room. She paused at the doorway, looking back, a suspicious look on her face, before continuing inside and closing the door behind her.

Looking back to the stairs, he noticed Juliette was nowhere to be seen. Probably hiding from me, he thought. All I seem to do is stare dumbly at her. Pushing the bathroom door open, he dropped the towel on the counter next to the sink, and nudged the door shut with the heel of his foot. He kicked off his jeans and pulled the band tee over his head, testing the water falling in large droplets into the porcelain tub. Climbing in, Ron relaxed immediately as the hot streams of water beat erratic patterns on his back and ran down his sticky skin.

So much to think about, he mused, I may be in here awhile.

* * *

Towel wrapped snugly at his hips, he peered out into the dark hall. Hermione's light was on, but the door was closed. Juliette's room was dark, he noted, surprised at his own disappointment. Padding softly down the hallway, he noticed his own door open. Had he left it open or closed it? Walking into the room, he immediately felt he wasn't alone. It excited him. His back to it, he heard the door close.

As she stood behind him, he could feel her breath on his bare back. She inhaled sharply and moved closer. Ron shuddered as he felt her soft fingertips tracing blazing paths down his back and around to his stomach. Wrapping her arms around his torso, she pressed into him. Turning around in her arms, he pulled her closer, enveloping her soft lips with his own. Returning his kiss, her fingers slid over his freckled cheeks, coming to rest in his shiny red hair. His hands found their way to the small of her back and fell to the silky fabric of her black shorts. Gingerly catching the edge of his lower lip with her teeth, she tugged it down slightly before releasing it. A pounding sound reverberated in his ears, like his heart beating in his chest. Pressing her body against his, her kiss grew fiercer and hungrier. The pounding grew louder and more erratic. Without thinking, his hands found the bottom of her tank top and pulled up, revealing her bare stomach. Letting out a guttural sigh, he continued sliding it up…

"Ron! Hello?!! Ron!"

The bright morning light burned his squinting blue-green eyes as the redheaded teen hastily blinked them, confused. Pushing the sweat soaked starch white sheets off, the clothes he'd worn the day before sticking to his skin, he sat up in bed, looking around.

The pounding on the door continued. "Ron! Ron!! Are you up yet?!" Hermione demanded. Collapsing backwards onto the bed, Ron covered his face with his hands, praying to be left to  
curl up and die, as the knocking continued.

* * *

Like a dog with its tail between its legs, Ron entered the noisy kitchen. Harry and Hermione were seated, talking jovially, around a round table overflowing with colorful dishes and pitchers of frosty refreshment, a thin vase of wildflowers in the middle. There was a radio somewhere that Juliette was merrily singing along to, her back to him, clanging pots, stirring batter, flipping pancakes. Noticing Ron, Harry smiled widely and nudged his chair towards Hermione, making more room for Ron to sit, while Hermione picked up her glass of orange juice and took a sip, intent on studying the place setting in front of her. As Ron plodded over, Juliette turned to deposit a steaming plate of perfectly round pancakes on the table

"Morning," she smiled at him, leaning sideways in the narrow space between Harry and Hermione, placing the plate securely on the table, a euphoric look that only Ron could see on Harry's face as she brushed into him. Harry looked knowingly at Ron as she turned back to the stove. A small goofy smile on his face, Ron plopped into his decided chair, pleased to note that her allure was universal.

* * *


End file.
